Diluna
by Shenlong Girl
Summary: The Doctor and Rose land on a quiet planet with a genial people.  But something lurks in the shadows of their sleepy streets.  Action/adventure, just a hint of Romance.
1. Festival

**Title:** Diluna  
**Author:** Shen  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Characters:** Nine, Rose  
**Summary:** The Doctor and Rose land on a quiet planet with a genial people. But something lurks in the shadows of the sleepy streets. Action/adventure, just a hint of Romance  
**Author's Note:** Written for LJ user emraldeyedauter for her very generous donation to Help Brazil. Many thanks to OtherMeWriter for beta reading.

**Chapter One: Festival**

'Another day, another wonder,' thought Rose as she stepped from the TARDIS. A darkened street greeted her, the awnings and rooftop gutters strewn with yellow paper lanterns. The buildings themselves were simple, one- or two-level affairs made of wood or, occasionally, some quarried stone, while the road itself were mostly gravel. She twirled around giddily, stopping to look back at the Doctor as he leaned on the ship's door and smiled a trifle indulgently.

"Where are we now?"

"No idea," he cheerily answered, standing up properly. "That's the beauty of the randomizer. Looks like we might have found an event or holiday of some kind, though." He gestured at the lanterns before extending his hand to her. She took it almost absentmindedly, sidling up to him to survey the street.

"Seems like an awful quiet holiday." Indeed, other than the sound of the breeze jostling the lanterns against the buildings, things were eerily silent. Rose shivered briefly, chilled in more than one way as the hairs on her neck stood up. The leather of the Doctor's jacket chilled her side as she pressed closer to him, and she looked around warily.

Just then, a merry sound floated across the roofs and through the alleys to reach them – music, woody and with heavy percussion, interspersed with what sounded like a joyful whoop or three. Instantly, the tension broke, and Rose smiled. She'd gotten worried so fast! 'Course, it paid to be careful when traveling in time and space, but the dread she'd started to feel was a bit melodramatic... probably.

The Doctor pointed and said, "Do you see the lights, brighter than the rest, over that section of roofs? I bet we'll find a big party over there."

"Do you think there'll be food?"

"Probably. It might even be edible. There could even be pretty boys there for you, though it's just as likely to be rat people." At that, Rose bumped her hip into his and shot him a joking glare.

"You know, I might like to meet rat people. Would their whiskers tickle me if we danced, do you think?"

"Let's find out!" The Doctor grinned and started pulling her along.

* * *

From the shadows of a nearby alley, two sets of calculating eyes watched the retreating figures of the Doctor and Rose.

"Damn. Where did those two come from?" hissed one scout to another. His feelers twitched in an agitated manner, prompting his partner to direct all three of his eyes at him in a weary glare.

"I don't know! We got here at almost the same time, after we heard that bizarre noise. All I saw was those two humans giggling and giving disgusting looks to each other."

"Humans are pretty gross," the first scout agreed. "Too… smooth, and soft."

"Squishy," the second scout twitched his tail in an agreeable fashion. "But this doesn't change anything. Two outsiders won't affect our plans, especially if they're the type who are too busy entangling their creepy hands together and listening to human music to notice two Gorxes standing meters away."

"Right then. Let's report back. But urgh, did you have to mention their hands? So many fingers!"

* * *

"Hello there!" Almost as soon as Rose and the Doctor walked from a side-street into the plaza, a tall, shirtless, human man of about thirty zeroed in on them. Rose thought he seemed jovial enough, with his welcoming voice and jaunty wave, but even she couldn't miss the guarded look in his eyes. Which was fair; they pretty much came from nowhere.

"Hello! I'm the Doctor, and this is Rose Tyler." The latter gave her best open, kind smile and knew the Doctor was doing the same. "We're travelers. Found your planet somewhat accidentally, see."

"But it looks like we might've got lucky on the timing?" Rose half-asked. Best to be certain of their welcome. She'd become more wary after the last time she'd stumbled into a closed religious ceremony. It had ended in an arduous escape and a tattoo removal. "It's just, we couldn't help but notice the gorgeous music."

The man squinted at them with eyes shadowed by his dark brown hair, seeming to measure them for a few moments before relaxing into a smile.

"I'm Harol." He shook their hands. "Accidentally, you said? You don't have any injured, do you?"

"No," Rose replied quickly.

"Ah, good, in that case, if you're lost or need help fixing your ship, we can arrange something tomorrow. Not that I can promise anything; we've been settled here for a while, and our technological skills aren't completely up to date. But for tonight, you can join." Harol turned to walk and gestured for them to follow. Without his broad shoulders blocking her view, Rose now saw the whole plaza, the edges of which were lit by the same lanterns that adorned the rest of the town, exiling most of the darkness from the streets. It was a surprisingly huge area considering its central location in the village, ringed with the gravelly street material but mostly made up of blue-green grass. Food stands teemed with customers on the gravel, while a band made up of various drums and flute-like things generated an impromptu dance floor in one corner of the grass. Most of the green space lay empty except for some running children, lazing youths, and piles of things like flags, ropes, and brightly-colored balls.

It looked like literally the entire town was present, mostly clad in loose or short trousers and light tops made of something like cotton. In trying to look more closely at the clothes, it struck Rose how dim it actually was. Why were they having such a festival at night?

"Your timing is indeed lucky. Welcome to Diluna, by the way." As if hearing her musings, Harol carelessly waved his hand toward the sky, where two of the brightest, most beautiful moons Rose had ever seen rode high above the town. One off-white, one a cheery orange.

"Wow," she breathed earnestly, and Harol grinned at her.

"Do you like it?"

The Doctor answered, "I've never seen the like in a world with binary satellites, and that's saying something."

"This is the most spectacular our sky ever looks. This festival's half for that."

"Harol!" called a skinny woman to their left. Her long red hair caught Rose's eye first, but the twinkle in her brown eyes came in at a close second. Third was the bored-looking, red-haired boy in his mid-teens that followed behind her. "Did you actually scrounge up more people to even the teams? You really are a miracle-worker!" The look she gave Harol's naked abs as she spoke made Rose think the woman was more concerned about his mortal skills than any divine ones. She looked at Harol to gauge his reaction and almost laughed aloud at his wide eyes and slightly twitching jaw.

"Charlotte, Bran," greeted Harol somewhat warily, "This is Rose and the Doctor. They're surprise guests. I was about to tell them about the festival."

"Shouldn't I do that?" asked Bran, whose whole face had lit up. He then hid his eagerness behind what Rose was sure he meant to be a rakish grin. "It'd be nice to tell the story to someone who hadn't heard it already, and isn't a _baby._"

Harol explained, "Their family runs the village archive and library. Bran in particular likes telling stories; the children adore him." Bran glared but couldn't seem to think of a good denial.

"Oh, come on, it's not just kids that like stories! I bet he's the life of the party," cajoled Rose, earning her a thankful, admiring smile. "If nothing else, girls love people who can really spice up the gossip."

"Found a new one already?" the Doctor whispered into her ear, only to be rewarded with a judiciously-applied heel to his shin.

Twenty minutes and many introductions to curious townspeople later ("You'll have to excuse us Dilunans; they townsfolk are curious because we don't see a lot of visitors who aren't trying to steal or sell something."), the five of them had food – some kind of kabob with a dark meat and bright, sweet-smelling vegetables – and were sitting in a circle on a cushy section of grass. After determining that the travelers had never even heard of Diluna, Bran settled into his story.

"Look up," he gently ordered. "Beautiful, aren't they? The moons don't always look like that. Indeed, sometimes they sit on opposite sides of the planet, like feuding siblings exiled to opposite corners of a room." He winked at his sister here, and she shoved him playfully. "But at regular intervals, they cozy up to one another in the night sky. On nights like this, when they shine brightest and for most of the night, we hold this festival." He paused here to take a bite of food, looking up to let the twin satellites reflect in his brown eyes and dance along his pale eyelashes. He grinned like a wild thing, basking in the ethereal glow before looking at the guests and continuing.

"Our people are relatively recent settlers. A generation ago, we peeled away from a society gone dark and oppressive – that's a story for another time. The point is that we arrived here with limited supplies and machinery and thus chose the most spring-like bit of planet for our landing. This planet had been briefly surveyed but left unclaimed, too far out of the way of the major shipping routes that would offer more safety and comfort. No one had lived here yet." His voice dropped. "Thus, we couldn't be sure how long any season would last.

"With that in mind, we built. With anything we could find, any way we could, half of us set about making enough shelter, while the rest scavenged and tried to farm. With the tools we had managed to bring, things seemed to progress alright. We were lean but satisfied with our progress., until one warm day on the cusp of summer."

Schooling his expression into a fierce nervousness, Bran continued at a faster clip, "Just at twilight, an earthquake struck." Rose winced. "In a proper city, say on a technology-rich hive planet, the shaking would have been uncomfortable at best. But to our cobbled-together homes and businesses, it was devastating. People were trapped, injured or dying. Pure chance tripped a member of a scavenging group, spraining his ankle and making everyone late for their evening meal. Because of that, they weren't caught in their homes. Simultaneously, a whole family had been cruelly struck with illness, ensuring they'd be in their unstable bedrooms at the time of collapse. We settlers had almost nothing to help clean up; even our torches were in a collapsed storage hut. What we did have… were the moons and each other." Bran sat up straighter, letting pride color his voice.

"So, on a night _just_ like this, the lucky ones worked by the stunning moonlight of this planet, as well as any fires they could manage, to save their friends and neighbors. It was a monumental effort and one that would have been impossible without teamwork. Even this planet's satellites worked together to help us."

"Thus, on nights like this, we get together to celebrate perseverance, community, and teamwork under the light of the moons." His serious visage broke, and he grinned. "Mostly with dancing and team games." Rose clapped, and the Doctor congratulated the boy on a job well done.

"Thanks, Bran," Charlotte said warmly.

"It's nothing, sis. I know you don't like doing story hour." Her straight nose wrinkled in blatant disgust, pulling a chuckle out of Harol.

"The little ones like to play with her hair," he explained fondly. Rose noticed a distinctly dewy look to his eyes.

"Pull, not play! Not that the little gremlins know the difference," she argued somewhat shrilly, but Rose noticed that her eyes were lamb-soft and aimed only at Harol. She thought that the woman seemed happy for his attention - just as Harol caught himself and looked away. Rose tilted her head at the man.

Just then, Harol declared himself hungry still and offered to get more food to share. Rose decided to accompany him and help carry it.

Immediately upon leaving the group's earshot, Rose asked, "So, Charlotte has a thing for you, eh?" He blinked at her.

"Huh? She has what 'thing' for me? She doesn't owe me anything."

With all the subtlety of a rooster in a library, Rose explained, "She wants to be in your trousers," emphasizing it with a down-pointing finger and accompanying smirk. Harol was too busy gaping to not stumble over the nearest bit of sport detritus, and he hit the soft ground in a tangle of ankles and knees. Rose glanced back, saw the redheaded siblings laughing openly at him, and hastily tried to put her body in the way of Harol's line of sight.

"Sorry!" She helped him to his feet. "It's just, she looks at you like she wants to..." She paused, swallowing euphemisms such as, 'climb you like a cherry tree,' "...wants to date you. But I'm just teasing. You don't like her that way, do you?"

"Don't like her? Of course I like her! She's smart, with the loveliest hair and the most devilish smile, and…" he trailed off wistfully and sighed. "She's too young for me, obviously."

"What?" was Rose's nonplussed reply.

"I'm 32 standard units old. She's 21. It's… it would lack propriety, at least here. I don't know what it's like where you come from." He looked back at their friends, raising an eyebrow. Rose put a hand on his elbow and gently spun him around, leading him once again toward the food.

"Don't look; she'll know we're talking about her."

"I wasn't looking at _he-_"

"Since you asked, I guess the age difference would raise eyebrows where I come from, too, but who cares? She apparently doesn't, so I'd guess it's not, like, punishable by death or anything." Harol snorted.

"Well, of course not. We're not savages. It's just unseemly."

"Then people will get over it. Trust me, if it's mutual, it'll be much easier if you just go for it. Even if it's just to get her out of your system." Harol glared, and Rose shrank back with an apologetic smile. "Even better if it's not a fling, right? All the more reason for a risk." Mollified, the man lapsed into thoughtful silence. Rose let him, hoping she'd given him something worth thinking about.

* * *

The Doctor enjoyed passing the time with Harol, Charlotte, and Bran. Mostly. Rose kept giving the shirtless, ruggedly-cut man odd looks which didn't, to him, seem like flirting. Not that he cared who she flirted with; wasn't any of his business. It was pure chance that he sat between them after returning from a drink run.

The official competitions for the children began after a short while, and Rose sat to watch with her head leaning lightly on his shoulder. She smelled nice. Nice enough to reduce his extensive vocabulary to, 'she smells nice.' An urge to rub his cheek on her head like a cat took his fancy, and it took entirely too long to remember why he shouldn't.

"Doctor?" To his regret, she moved away to look up at him with the air of someone who's had to repeat herself several times. "You tired or something?"

"No," was all he offered. Her brow scrunched, but she didn't comment. "Anyway, I was saying, they want us to compete with them. Do you think you're up for it?"

"Oh, I think I'll be at least as helpful as you, young miss. I was catching balls and whacking things with sticks before you were a glimmer in Jackie's - before you existed," he interrupted himself, heading off somewhat alarming thoughts of Rose's mum and procreation.

Rose glared at him gamely and asserted, "I wouldn't want you to crack a hip is all. But if you're sure you're alright, I think I can keep up, old man."

"Going to pit those bronze-level gymnastics skills against me, are you?" He smiled, softening the words.

"Oh you haven't begun to see those skills in action, Time Lord."

"I bet." Her eyes widened, and he realized how breathily that had come out.

"What?" Oh blast it. 'Go with it, pretend you don't see the innuendo!'

He enunciated, "I said, 'I bet.' I know you've got more potential than I've yet seen. I thought I was the old man; you can't be losing your hearing yet!" At that, she rolled her eyes. Just then, the boy - the Doctor judged him to be about fifteen Earth years old - leaned over to look at them both.

"So you're competing with us in drag? You'll love it; it's brilliant!"

"What?" came twin yelps from Rose and himself. Bran frowned.

"You just were talking about playing the games with us. Don't you know what Drag is? Where you have a team on either end of a rope, and you all _drag_ until the middle goes too far in one direction?" The Doctor burst out laughing, and Rose was only a few seconds behind.

She explained, "We call that 'tug-of-war' back home. We'd love to join in."

"Then come with us now. We'll put you on teams so we can go get ready."

"Get ready?" The Doctor blithely asked.

* * *

An hour and change later, the Doctor followed a troupe of young and middle-aged adults back to the town park/plaza somewhat sullenly. Charlotte looked at him and unsubtly stifled a laugh.

"It's not that bad."

"You people took my jacket and my _jumper._ Right now, I have some kind of rodent-"

Charlotte interjected, "The jenty is our team mascot."

"-rodent," he reiterated, "painted on my chest."

"Think of it this way: Your Rose will have lost about as much clothing as you have." The Doctor's impressive brain ground to a halt.

"...Does their team get body paint, too?" Charlotte snorted at him. However, her features then sobered, and she walked closer to the Time Lord.

"Um, can I ask a personal question?" He nodded, puzzled.

"How did you get her to get over the age difference? Or how did she get you to?" The Doctor had to mentally rewind the conversation to catch her meaning.

"Oh! We're not- she's not _my_ Rose."

"Oh. Sorry for assuming. Oh look, we're here!" she exclaimed, apparently grateful for the change in subject. "Now we just have to wait until our friends get here."

And they waited. And waited. And waited...


	2. Separated

**Title:** Diluna  
**Author:** Shen  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Characters:** Nine, Rose  
**Summary:** The Doctor and Rose land on a quiet planet with a genial people. But something lurks in the shadows of the sleepy streets. Action/adventure, just a hint of Romance  
**Author's Note:** Written for LJ user emraldeyedauter for her very generous donation to Help Brazil. Many thanks to OtherMeWriter for beta reading.

**Chapter Two: Separated**

The Doctor just barely resisted the urge to pace. Rose's tug-of-war team, including the strong and calm Harol as well as Charlotte's clever little brother, Bran, seemed to be a no-show. After ten minutes, people had made a few cracks about the team's vanity, supposing they were taking extra time with their garb and makeup. After fifteen, annoyance colored most people's moods, though the Doctor was parked at full-on worry. Now, after twenty-five minutes, he started edging toward panic.

Rose was notoriously jeopardy-friendly. Enough that he'd coined a new term just for her brand of unwitting magnetism for peril. It was almost as bad as his. Why did he let her wander off? She had him so turned around with her cuddling and her nice scent that he'd actually broken his own rule. In fact, he'd practically _sent_ her off! Any number of untoward things could be happening to her, could have already happened while he got a bloody rodent painted on his chest. This was unacceptable.

"You look awful nervous," asserted a man on his team. This drew the entire group's attention, bored and annoyed as they were.

Gruffly, he responded, "I'm not nervous. I'm just wondering what's happened to my companion." Now that he'd let her walk into a dark, empty village, on an unfamiliar planet, with strangers.

"Well, maybe I'm wondering what your 'companion' has done to our friends." The accusation was clear, and while no one joined in, no one refuted it either. The Doctor's eyes widened, and he couldn't hold back a sneer.

"That slip of a girl? What exactly do you think she did to them, tied them up with gossip? Tripped them with innuendo? She's a capable human, but she can't do anything to fifteen adults!"

"How do we know there are really just two of you?"

"What do you mean, 'capable human?'"

* * *

_One hour earlier…_

Rose walked with Bran, trailing at the end of a troupe of people who were all headed toward someone's home a ways into the village. She was trying to pry information from the teen, mainly about his sister and Harol and their non-starting courtship (she was her mother's daughter, after all). The man in question was walking nearer the front of the group, chatting with a shorter blonde man.

The home turned out to be a large one for the town, with picture windows across its face, and she idly wondered if the people here had brought a glass- or plastic-making device when they settled. The modern convenience looked odd to her, juxtaposed with all the wood and rough-cut stone.

She would later thank a higher power for the distraction. In looking intently at the house instead of nattering to Bran, she immediately perceived that something was wrong when her teammates started piling into the door. At the first fearful shout, adrenaline hit her at ludicrous speed; she grabbed Bran's elbow and hauled the shorter boy's shocked form around a corner.

"What-" She shushed him as the screaming began in earnest. Outraged shouts were truncated suddenly, while someone gave the gut-wrenching howl of one being dragged toward certain doom. But Rose, trusting the flight instinct that the Doctor so carefully nurtured in her, was halfway down the alley by the time the latter type could be heard, a sweaty hand clenched in hers. Bran didn't speak, but he did keep up. She glanced back to check on him and instead found her eyes focused beyond his form, at the mouth of the alley. A glimpse of pebbled tail met her, as big around as a man, with almost insect-like armor adorning its top side.

She hauled arse around the nearest corner and kept running.

* * *

After a block or so, Rose and Bran had to stop running. Not because of any fatigue - Rose felt sure her fear and adrenaline could have run her the length of four villages - but because this area of town crawled with aliens, somewhat literally. The species had a stout, serpentine tail as their source of locomotion. Their rounded torsos were a little less...obviously delineated than a human one. Three arms, two of which were apparently dominant, sat farther apart (closer together?) than human ones and had shoulders that more or less created a frame for the front of their bodies. The third arm sat in the middle of the two dominant ones in the "chest" area. From the top-down, the torso wouldn't quite be divided into thirds by the arms; the back section would be larger. Right above the shoulders sat an almost flat-topped head, only slightly thinner than the torso, with a crude, beak-like mouth and three stalk-eyes on the flat-ish part, again not quite dividing it into thirds. Feelers of some kind extended from the edges of the head and from around the mouth, but it was the hands that creeped Rose out, being spindly, chitinous things with three or four fingers. The plates of armor situated along their backs just decreased Rose's confidence in her ability to come out of an encounter unscathed.

"We have to go back." Rose fought both a wince and an eyeroll at the agonized whisper, breaking on a stern look. She forced a slow, calm whisper from herself.

"I know, Bran; I'm right there with you. But you see what we're up against; these men got our entire team in a minute." She purposefully used a vague verb, unwilling to suggest that they were either dead or alive. "We have to get back to the Doctor; he'll know what to do." Her nod of self-assurance didn't do much for Bran, and he looked up at her with wide eyes.

"But..." his voice died, at a loss for an argument. Rose wondered if she was ever this frustratingly guilt-inducing to the Doctor. Now that she had someone younger and less experienced to watch over, she had to challenge herself to be more responsible and controlled, when all she wanted to do was go back to the rest of the team and _figure it out._ The Doctor could have figured it out...

She shook off the useless thought and prompted Bran to continue leading her back toward the plaza, watching out for aliens and calming him when he started to shake. Not that she blamed him; the task was proving to be more difficult than she imagined. When yet again, they peaked out an alley only to see more aliens, she took a chance and signaled Bran to sit and wait with her.

"Is everyone situated now? I want to be off this backwater as soon as possible," griped one creature to another. The second one made a hissing sound that gave Rose the general impression of agreement.

"We're keeping a close eye on the humans' gathering in case any more decide to wander off. Won't any of them be getting past us, and the hostages are secured, in case we need to bargain." Rose cursed mentally, even as she absentmindedly pushed Bran back; he had been leaning over her to take a look at the aliens and was too visible for her comfort. Still, she couldn't miss his sharp intake of breath.

"Good. Here, take this to the cart. I'm going back for more food; I'll be along." The second creature slid past their alleyway, and the pair froze. Rose was certain her heart was trying to climb her esophagus when the creature's slithering sprayed gravel into her lap, and she was overwhelmingly relieved when they weren't seen sitting against the wall.

When they'd gone, Bran moaned, "Oh, no."

"What is it?"

"That package he was carrying - it's a unique type of medicine. Something we process from the plants on this planet." When Rose only looked vaguely concerned, he insisted, "It's pretty much our only export. And who knows what else they're taking!"

"The other one said he was going back for food, actually."

"What? Winter is coming in twenty or thirty days! And-" Bran looked genuinely confused, "how do you know what he said?"

"The Doctor gave me a wicked translator?" The boy looked bewildered but accepting, and Rose gratefully shoved the topic aside.

Feeling sick, she knew she had to ask, "So these aliens are basically robbing you blind? While our friends are too well-guarded for us to get to?" The boy nodded once she explained the latter statement. With growing comprehension of the situation, fear wormed through her gut, leaving gaping holes that sucked in panic and insecurity. Things were ugly. Pug ugly. Shireen's-mum-after-a-bender ugly. But in a way, these new details simplified things immensely.

'Alright, woman. Time to earn your TARDIS keep.'

"Bran, how brave are you feeling today?"

* * *

A full thirty minutes later, Rose and Bran followed a few aliens to the town's outskirts - still a much easier feat than trying to go towards the overly-guarded middle. It also helped that the aliens didn't seem to have fantastic hearing. Rose couldn't even find ears on them, so she supposed that made sense. The teens even managed to swing by Bran's home and grab his parents' weapons, which were some kind of ancient-looking but well-oiled laser guns. ("We don't use them much here; they're a little too good at lighting a fire for such a forested continent.")

"Woow," Bran breathed, temporarily distracted from his fear. "Would you look at that? I've never seen a ship like it."

"Me either, actually. It looks sort of... grown. Like they took some kind of giant, cigar-shaped monster and plated it with metal and circuits and stuff." A cyborg slug, sort of. Bran nodded slowly, then looked abruptly alarmed.

"Where's your ship? Do you think they'll try and steal it while they're here?" Rose blinked.

"Er.. I think it'll be okay."

"If you say so..."

"Hey, look. Those huge antenna-looking things; what do you think they do?" They scratched their heads for a moment, taking in the long, multi-jointed appendages that stuck out of either end of the ship.

Bran offered, "I... guess antennae usually sense stuff?"

"So, you think those are a sort of set of sensor... things?"

"Probably."

"Important?"

After a pause, he nodded, "Most likely. I think."

"...Do they look flammable to you?"

* * *

"_How do we know there are really just two of you?"_

_"What do you mean, 'capable human?'"_

The Doctor cursed foully at himself. This definitely wasn't his most silver-tongued regeneration.

But before he could defend his words, a voice bellowed from his side, "What in the name of a double-eclipse is wrong with you people?" The aforementioned people shut up and stared at Charlotte. "I've only known him and his friend for a few hours, but I can at least tell that they're not stupid. Why would any good criminal leave their man stuck in the middle of the lot of us? He could have done a runner easily when we were getting ready for drag."

"For that matter, we don't even know that anything's wrong," added an older woman. "They could be drinking."

"You're too trusting," accused a third woman, a would-be drag spectator drawn in by the growing scene. "Do you think it's a coincidence we get two mysterious strangers and, hours later, people start disappearing? They could be slaver scouts for all we know."

"Sod coincidence!" The Doctor's voice crushed the fledgling shouts that would have undoubtedly spelled out further drama. "We're going to look for them. You can lead the way, so you know I'm not taking you into a trap, and you already know I'm not hiding anything, because _you took my jacket._ So just keep an eye on me, and we can start looking!"

Ten minutes, some bickering, and some turned-out trouser pockets later, they did just that.

* * *

The townspeople formed two search teams: One to go check on the missing team by heading to the leader's house and one to investigate if that first team didn't come back fast enough. Until then, however, the people let the dancing and the games for the young people continue more or less normally. There was no need to alarm everyone yet.

The first team, mostly made up of the Doctor's drag team, headed into the spacious village streets. Less than ten minutes later, the crunch of something sliding along gravel brought them to a resounding halt. They backed into a wary circle just as an unfamiliar species of alien slithered into view, nearly encircling them. Some people screamed, and while he understood their alarm, it grated on his nerves.

"Quiet!" he roared, stepping away from the pack of humans. "And you! What have you done with them?" He supposed it was a bit melodramatic of him to combine a pointed finger with his Oncoming Storm glare, but Rose was missing, and he was surrounded by serpent people wielding small blasters in their middle arms, and things were not bloody okay. To the invaders' credit, they were as disinterested in banter as he.

"They're here." One threw a three-centimeter-cubed object to the ground between the groups. The Doctor covered his eyes and immediately activated his respiratory bypass, but the cube just projected an image into the air above it - a dozen or so humans, bound with cord on the floor of someone's home. Harol was there, a fact that made Charlotte whimper aloud even as the man glared defiantly up at his captors. One hostage, a woman, was being held in the scales of one of the aliens, a perverse embrace with her legs wrapped in the alien's tail and her bound torso entangled with its spindly arms. Sharpened, cruel fingers rested on her throat and held her head back, and one chitinous digit sat poised above her pulse.

Someone behind the Doctor moaned, "Gloria..." but he ignored it. Something else was causing him worry.

"Where's Bran?" demanded Charlotte as she stepped up beside the Doctor. He spared her half a glance, annoyed but understanding. As soon as he'd noticed Rose's absence, his considerable brain had about blanked out in panic for a second, before he'd realized that-

"'Bran?' What's a 'bran?'"

"Did a human get away?"

"We have to find it!"

...that they might not know they were missing anyone.

The leader snapped, "It doesn't matter. You, loud humans - if your people do anything, and I mean anything, the compatriot of mine who's getting to know your female will squeeze."

"So your game is innocent hostages? Very brave plan you have there," the Doctor sneered. "But they were a lucky break for you, an unexpected bargaining chip. What are you really after?"

"We will take what we want and leave. No need for a mess; go back to your little party for a few hours."

"Go back to our party? What kind of idiot do you take me for?" Through his incredulity, he noticed that Charlotte and the rest of the humans were looking at him with mixes of confusion and suspicion.

"You can understand them?" she asked slowly. Oh, brilliant.

Impatiently, he explained, "Yes. I have the latest translator tech. You should know that they're telling us to go back to the festival while they make off with who knows what."

"Or they'll kill the hostages?"

"Pretty much, yeah." The Doctor was in a bind. Missing companion, hostages, a gaggle of spineless civilians at his back, and no useful reinforcements expected. He swallowed a sigh of resignation, and it fought on its way down, as if he'd eaten a live spider.

He opened his mouth to speak, "We might have to- What's that?" He abruptly pointed into at the sky above the town's outskirts, where smoke was billowing into the wind, thrown into relief by the luminous moons. The invaders start hissing and twittering amongst themselves, just as confused as he.

"Someone call the ship and get a visual!"


	3. Hostages

**Title:** Diluna  
**Author:** Shen  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Characters:** Nine, Rose  
**Summary:** The Doctor and Rose land on a quiet planet with a genial people. But something lurks in the shadows of their sleepy streets. Action/adventure, just a hint of Romance  
**Author's Note:** Many thanks to all of you for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the review section. :)

**Chapter Three: Hostages**

It had taken some doing to get to the sensor antennae. The ship turned out to be protected by a very strong force field which only its crew could lower. However, Rose and Bran couldn't run from the shelter of the buildings to the ship without being seen by any aliens in front of it. They'd ended up going around the back of the vessel when the coast was clear and listening for the sound of slithers, only hoping that there were no monitored cameras or windows where they were hiding.

But it had all been worth it, because now one of the ship's two sets of giant, fleshy antennae was on fire. In a moment of inspiration, somewhere between seeing the appendages burst into cheery flames and hearing the aliens squeal in alarm as they slithered out of the ship, she grabbed Bran's arm and pulled him to the body of the ship. Veiny protrusions and jutting metal made it easy enough to climb, and they were on top of it before anyone thought to look in back for them. Rose wasted a moment to wrinkle her nose at the smell of burning ship parts, hoping it didn't contain anything the Doctor couldn't sort.

"Hold it!" Rose shouted at the top of her lungs. Bran had his laser pointed at the second - and last - set of sensor antennae, as they'd discussed. She had her back to his and her weapon pointed at the ground, hoping that those bloated, serpentine bodies were as poor for climbing as they looked.

"You lot! Don't even think about-" One of the creatures reached for a holstered weapon; Rose fired without letting herself think about it, deliberately aiming wide. She didn't even come close to hitting the guy, but he still dropped his weapon to the ground. "I said don't even THINK about reaching for a weapon."

Continuing to yell to ensure everyone heard, she added, "Bran? Next time I fire, you fire, got that?"

A strangled murmur came from the level of her shoulder, and she felt him nod. She whispered, "Yell so they can hear you."

"Y-yes, ma'am! I'll do it; I'll fire!" he yelled almost hysterically. She could feel his trembling where they touched and only hoped that what they were doing was good enough. Could these aliens hear the quaver in her voice? Read her facial expression when she shot at their comrade – the one that broadcast she was absolutely as frightened as her target?

Rose shook herself, breathed, and bellowed, "You might hit me, or even 'im, but you won't hit us both before we knock out your last sensor array; then you'll be stuck on this backwater with us." Bravado, girl, that's all the Doctor's got in situations like this. Well, bravado, and a genius brain, and several backup plans, and he at least would know if these actually _were_ important pieces of the ship. Shit.

No - bravado!

"I want to see the people you caught earlier, and I want to see them in one piece! And while you're at it, take the food and medicine out of your ship!"

* * *

The Doctor goggled. There was no better word. A few moments prior, the invaders' viewing cube had started displaying a split-screen image, half a feed of the hostages and half a view of an oblong, cyborg-like ship with sensor-antennae that stuck out like whiskers on either side. One set of whiskers was on fire. On top of this ship stood Rose and Bran, both looking like their knees would give out at any moment but still pointing aged laser weapons at the antennae and invaders.

He was going to kill her. He would rescue her, then kill her. His caring, personable companion standing with planted feet, bathed by ethereal moonlight and holding a weapon – a _gun,_ he thought distastefully - like some mythic hero was literally the last thing he expected to see tonight.

"Doctor!" she called to him. Someone who didn't know her as well as he wouldn't have heard how close she was to losing it, though most any humanoid could have heard her relief at seeing his face. "Make sure they release the hostages."

"No," growled the lead invader, and the camera-holding grunt spun to face him. "We are at a stalemate. We have your people; you threaten our ship. Why should we be the ones to give way?"

"Do you ever want to leave this planet again?"

"Do you want to see your fellow humans again? You can't stand there forever. Step down now, biped, and we might let you live."

The Doctor ground out, "You won't touch a hair on her-"

An invader on the edge of the group near the Doctor burst into flame, his pebbled flesh boiling as he squealed.

"Back up! Weapons down!" About fifteen people melted out of the darkness behind the Doctor's team, all armed with lasers similar to the ones Rose and Bran carried. They brought them to bear as the injured alien rolled in the gravel to put himself out.

"I thought you were waiting?" asked Charlotte, flabbergasted. One woman shrugged.

"Got antsy." They must have gone searching for weapons right away and come running when they saw the smoke. Meanwhile, the thieves were keeping their claws well away from their holsters. Their leader twitched his tail, furious.

"We're not the only Groxes on these streets."

"We're not alone either, and we can hear your ilk from a block away," a man boasted. The Doctor figured that may or may not be true, but it was good enough for him.

As the Grox holding the camera focused in on the new arrivals, the Doctor proclaimed "Oi, point the camera over here." While the newcomers backed the invaders into a group, the Grox holding the camera stepped forward. "There you have it, then. Hear that? Your officer, your sensors, and a whole group of grunts versus our hostages. We'll be marching your men back to you in one piece as long as you do what the lady on your ship says."

* * *

Most of the rescue party and all of the search party walked – slithered - _led_ their captives to the ship, while a few people went to oversee the release of the hostages. The Groxes were surprisingly reasonable once cornered. The Doctor negotiated, and they realized that risking the deaths of several of their party, followed by being marooned on a sleepy agri-planet, was simply not worth what they would get in trade for the medicine or human-exclusive food they'd stolen. Instead, as a token of good will toward future interactions, the villagers let them keep some stores that the Groxes could eat, and the Doctor suspected they didn't quite unload all of their haul, but it was good enough.

Finally, with an enormous pile of abused goods sitting outside of the ship, and all of the invaders inside of the ship, Rose and Bran were able to climb down. The vessel quickly put its force shield back in place and lifted off, thankfully thinking better of destroying the settlement from above. Though the more cynical part of the Doctor suggested that their weapons and aiming systems possibly weren't up to it.

Distracted from that thought, he smiled as Rose dropped her gun distastefully and stumbled to him as he ran up to her, squeezing her for all he was worth. As her knees buckled, she wrapped her arms around him just as fiercely, and her hot breath on his chest, even her tears on his collarbone, were the sweetest sensations he could wish for.

"Doctor, I'm sorry, it was- we couldn't get to you, and..." she squeezed her eyes closed even tighter even as she pressed her face into his neck, simultaneously hiding from his eyes and seeking comfort. "It was the only thing we could think to do."

"Rose," he whispered, leaning down to speak in her ear. "I'll be angry with you later, but right now, I'm too relieved and proud." And it was true. Half of him wanted to yell and shake her until she understood not to take risks like that, but he couldn't do it while she clung to him like she was. "You held an entire ship hostage and didn't hurt anyone; I've never met a girl like you." So instead, he kissed her soundly on the forehead, and she gave a sort of laughing sob.

"I'm sorry for crying, too."

"It's just the adrenaline. Nothing to be ashamed of." He just held her for a few minutes, rubbing her back as she trembled and inhaling the scent of her.

"Doctor?" she eventually asked, pulling away and sniffling.

"Hm?" She looked down at her shirt, which was smudged with orange and purple paint, then back up at him.

"Where are your clothes? And what on earth is on your chest? A... chipmunk?"

"Er..." the Doctor glanced around reflexively, and his eyes set upon Bran, who was having a tearful reunion with his sister and an older man, presumably their father. Good but not what he was looking for. But... ah yes, there. "Hey, have a look, Rose."

She obligingly followed his gaze to see Harol, jogging out of town with several other villagers. Charlotte actually squeaked when she saw him, and then made a jogging beeline. They collided with a force that made the Doctor wince, snuggling openly, and Rose snorted through her tears.

"That's adorable. Now let him try to tell her he's not interested." Charlotte pulled back, indelicately grabbed Harol's face, and hauled him into a kiss, which he willingly melted into. "Oh, I so win."

"What are you talking about?" inquired the Doctor.

"I'll tell you later. Can we go back to the TARDIS?" He gave her a once-over. The tears were drying, but she still shook with the aftereffects of stress. Exhaustion radiated from her form; crying had reddened her face. She was beautiful despite it, but she clearly needed a rest.

"All right. Let's go home." So, after saying goodbye to Bran, Charlotte, and Harol, and turning down several offers of food and shelter from villagers, they walked back to the TARDIS.

* * *

Two showers later, Rose and the Doctor met in the kitchen for a cup of tea. They silently went through the ritual of making it, he boiling the water while she readied the mugs and sugar. The practice calmed him, as much as the aroma of the brew when it finally sat before him.

"Feel a bit better?" he asked solicitously. She nodded, putting both hands around her mug.

"Much." Still, slight tension sat laced around her shoulders and pressed to her brow, foiling the lightness of her tone.

He opted for a half-serious jest, "I may never let you wander off again, you know."

"Hmph. After that, just see if you can peel me off your side. Though it's not like I knew that was going to happen," she countered a tad rebelliously. He rolled his eyes.

"Well of course not, but you didn't have to put yourself in so much danger, either. You took a huge risk, with nothing but some teenager and a weapon that you didn't know how to use for help." He could tell she wanted to shrink at his tone, but instead she forced herself to raise an eyebrow at him.

Indignantly, she asked, "Would you rather I got taken as a hostage, then? Because it was that or sneaking around a town crawling with armored, three-armed snake people all night. At least this way, I got to help the villagers not-starve over winter. Teamwork, right? That's what Diluna's festival was about."

"And... we couldn't have won without you," he grudgingly admitted. "But it wasn't for you to- it wasn't something you should have..."

She nearly yelled, "Wait. You are not trying to tell me that it wasn't my job. 'Not my problem? Those people can go hang?' Well, if that's really how you feel, it's a hell of an example you're setting. Besides, I'm not more important than anyone who was out there tonight!"

"You're more important to me!" he blurted out.

She sat back abruptly, having no argument with that. The Doctor, just as shocked as she was at his words, just took a long swig of tea. Then, he sighed and got up.

"Look. Don't think I'm not proud of you, because I am." She'd held her own with no training, and it was no lie that the fight would have been lost without her actions. "But don't make a habit of putting your life on the line like that. I nee- I don't want anything to happen to you. All right?"

"...And you'll be watching me like a hawk for like a week, right?" She cracked the most tentative of smiles, looking up at him with caution. He pretended blindness to her joke.

"That's right," he answered shortly, but he made sure to soften his glare immediately after. With facetious haughtiness, he continued, "And if Madame behaves, I won't even tell your mum that you spent all night gallivanting around with an underage man."* Now she smiled for real.

"Fair enough." She looked down at her tea, and he walked up to her, leaning down to kiss her on the forehead again. He almost wished she would look up by accident, make him miss his target like in one of those abysmal romantic comedies... what was he thinking? Preying on traumatised nineteen-year-olds, honestly. If he ever kissed her, it would be...

He stopped that thought, for the night, at least.

* * *

Rose watched him leave the kitchen, tea in hand. It was weird. There was a moment when he leaned over her, and she thought... but before she could turn her head and test her theory, he'd given her a peck on the forehead and left. Still, probably for the best. She was still caught up in the memory of hugging his shirtless body to hers, feeling the solid form of him for once not dulled by leather. Clutching at the broad expanse of his back under her fingers. If he'd kissed her just now, she most likely would have hyperventilated again, and wouldn't that be romantic?

Besides, he didn't think of her like that... probably. But then she thought about Harol and Charlotte and wondered.

END


End file.
